Everything But The Girl
by Daxnassrac
Summary: Wendy is still aging!" Hook told Peter, smugly."She has come of age. She can bear children, now." Wendy struggled against Hook, "I can NOT!" Peter broke in, "That's impossible!" Hook rose an eyebrow, "Would you like to test that theory?" Peter/Wendy
1. Gwen and Gorgeous

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan. Peter Pan is property of J.M. Barrie and Great Ormond Street Hospital.**

**-**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter One**

**-**

_Fly away with me... We'll never have to grow old or tired and we can always have fun together... Always._

**Beep Beep Beep Beep**

I slapped my hand over the clock, sighing. Every night it was the same thing. Well, not exactly the same. Sometimes he would have different coloured hair. Sometimes I wouldn't even be in the dream, just he and his adventures. A charming boy for one with little experience with girls. Shimmering green eyes; curly, short hair. Sometimes blonde, sometimes brunette. Rough, dirty skin and an outfit crafted by faeries out of leaves, sap, twigs, and acorns. But what really got me was his smile. Beautiful. Darling, really. (And trust me, I know about "darling.") But boyishly awkward. A smile that I never managed to capture on paper, as hard as I tried.

By the way, my name is Gwendolynn Darling. It is a pleasure to meet you. My friends and family call me "Gwen," but for all intensive purposes, I prefer you call me "Wendy." You see, for the past year or so, I've had continuous dreams of a boy, a very mysterious, courageous, mischievous boy. I don't know his name, but he is simply fascinating. He can fly, he as a knife on his person, always, he even has his own faerie! (And a lovely one at that.) But more than that, he has all sorts of amazing adventures!

And he will never grow up.

Last night's dream was of him speaking to me. Telling me to come away with him to have adventures. The dreams were always exciting. So exciting, in fact, that I almost didn't want to wake up. But I did, I always did. I began to tell the stories to my brothers as a way to get them off my chest, but never revealed their origin and replaced my name with "Wendy." Oh, the cleverness of me.

I pulled on my pleated skirt and stockings, buttoned up my blouse, and did up my tie. All the wile, thinking of my adventures with the boy and humming his theme that played in the dreams' background faintly each evening. At one time I thought of giving it words but found that it was perfectly good without any.

At school, I coloured the pictures of his face I'd drawn and had been perfecting for the past week. During lunch, my friends crowded around me. Each girl shouting or cooing something more embarrassing and false than the last. "Isn't he perfectly lovely?" I asked no one in particular, raising my voice above the mess hall ruckus.

"Beautiful," Emily, my best friend, agreed readily.

"My thoughts exactly," I continued to shade in his lips. There was no part of the body I thought was more beautiful (or as much fun to draw) as the mouth.

Aimee shook my chair, "Who is he?!"

"The boy of her _dreams_," Cassie said dramatically, then proceeded to swoon and pretend to faint on the girl next to her. "I feel weak!" She cried.

The girls laughed at her playful antics but I was not amused. "It's not my fault," I hissed defensively, "If the boy wants to show up in my dreams every night for a year straight, looking totally gorgeous and taking me on wild adventures, he's going to. And really, girls, who am I to stop him?" I laughed lightly, cupping a hand over my mouth. When I'd finished giggling, I lowered my hand hurriedly to traced the eyelashes once more in black coloured pencil.

Out of the silence, Diana called out, "You _love _him!"

"Gwen and 'gorgeous' sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" They started to chant.

"You're all so childish!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. That was when the teacher came over an broke up the party, leaving Emily and I to our quiet admiration. Emily was the only girl at school who I told the details of my dreams to, but even she did not know I was "Wendy."

All the girls thought I was crazy, of that I was sure. "Fairytales are for kids, Gwen," they told me, but that is not true. It is during adolescence, I believe, that one needs fairytales the most. Something, anything, to hold onto when things start to look bleak, as they tend to do when one starts to "grow up." I, personally, wasn't having any of this "growing up" business. Hormones and the like, blech, I'll pass. I was steadfast in that I was always going to be a kid, be it at heart or otherwise.

Little did I know, my aspirations were closer to my grasp than I had anticipated.

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**Please Review!**


	2. Cup Half Full

**Peter Pan Fanfiction**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter Two**

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That evening I rushed up to my room as soon as I arrived home. I locked the door and did not come out until dinner time. I wanted no part of the family at that time. Not because I was angry, or that I did not love them, I simply wished to be alone. Or, rather, _relatively_ alone. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts would be a better way to state it. But of course, there was only one thing that filled my thoughts and one thing alone that had filled them to the brim from the evening he invited me into his life of adventures and that was my dream boy.

I tried to sleep but to no avail. I wanted to know what happened next. What would I say? Would I go with him? From a viewing standpoint, going away with the boy seemed like a bright idea. Away from the everyday burdens of life. Away from responsibility. Away from time, itself. The sound of it alone was simply enchanting. However, looking back on the dream, I believe it was good I never picked up where I left off. For that would have been a dress rehearsal, and no one rehearses miracles.

I decided I should think the whole decision through rationally. I mean, how could I go with him, anyhow. I knew it was pitiful for a girl my age to be so caught up in dreams and make-believe, but I wanted and wished so hard for him to be real, I could hardly help myself for being so deeply enveloped in his legend. I decided to make a list of reasons why I shouldn't go with him. I thought it best to think of the glass as half empty, who knew what could happen? The list went something like this:

1 - I need to take care of my brothers

2 - I need to attend school and get an education

3 - My family would be so worried

4 - Emily would be lonely

5 - I couldn't possibly learn to fight like he could, fly like he could, I would never survive his adventures

6 - He was a boy, I was a girl, it wasn't proper

7 - I was beginning to grow up, it too late for me to be in a land where time is non-existent.

I sighed despairingly at my list. A list of only seven had brought my high soring hopes down to the ground, where they should have been, anyway. What was I doing, getting my hopes up. But then, I knew well, the evening would come and the dreams would come and my spirits would sore once more without a thought to how hard I would fall when my dreams never came true. It wasn't fair that this was happening to me. That someone could wave a treat in front of me and never allow me to have it. It was torture, honestly.

For the sake of argument and self-discovery, which I found to be an adventure in itself at the time, I made a list of reasons why I should go with him:

1 - I don't want to grow up

2 - I want to live a life of adventure

3 - I want to become a brave, strong woman

4 - I want to learn more about the boy, like his name, about his faerie, his companions, his home, I am so intrigued

5 - I hate my responsibilities for my family, they are so tedious

6 - I hate school and can't stand most of the people there

7 - He could teach me how to fly, to fight, show me his lands

8 - I wouldn't much care to see him go, not after I felt like I knew him so well

After I'd written my eighth reason, I paused. So, that was that, was it? There were more reasons to go than to stay. But did those reasons out-weigh my duties to those around me? I didn't feel they did, but guilt for even thinking of leaving the family gripped my heart with an icy hand. However would they deal without me? But then, it felt almost conceited to think they'd miss me so much. I was at a crossroads.

I sat in the silence and listened to the romping of my brothers in the room over. The room I once shared with them. Soon after leaving the nursery, I turned thirteen and began to have my dreams of the boy. Was it a sign? Who knew. But I wished that I could be like them just once more. To play, jumping from bed to bed, charging at one another, then falling when neither chickened out, then laughing at the pain in our rears and our heads. But no, now I was only good for stories. Stories of the boy. It was sad that this boy gave me a reason to go on caring about my social life, but I was grateful all the same. So, when I looked at the big picture, I owed the boy my life, for he had been the one that saved it in the first place.

It was with this in mind that I began to write my letter to him. I left out any mention of a name, for if he found it, he would know it was for him. "I would very much like to accompany you to your world to have adventures with you and your fellows. You have given me a reason to care, and for that I thank you. You are a fascinating person and it has been a delight to take part in your journeys each evening. Excuse me for my body, I did not choose to be female and if this is a hazard to you or your life style, I understand. Please consider this request." I signed the letter _Darling_ in my most beautiful cursive before folding it over. I stared out the window into the sky that he would descend from that evening and into my dreams once more, and watched as the stars began to appear. Only a few were out, as the sun had not yet set. At this time I addressed the letter, "Second to the right and straight on till morning." It seemed like somewhere the boy would live.

I tossed the letter half heartedly out the window and watched as the wind picked it up and carried it off. The wind certainly was starting to get out of hand, I remember thinking to myself. Storm clouds were moving in. "Gwen!" My mother called up to me. "It's dinner time! You have to look at us sometime!" I sighed, she didn't understand.

"I'm coming!" I called back, then, closing the window halfway, I left my bedroom.


	3. Sleepless Night

**Peter Pan Fanfiction**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter Three**

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Dinner was uneventful. The roast beef was very good, as were the mashed potatoes and peas. I chatted with mother about school and how my friends were "admiring my artwork" that morning. I loved my family, but I didn't want them to know me very well. For if they did, I was sure they would not love me back. So many strange thoughts ran through my mind all day long, it was like I didn't even know who I was, some things even I questioned the logic of. If others were to see the me inside, there was no doubt in my mind they would shy away from me. When the dishes were clean and the floor swept, I went back up to my room to sleep and to, hopefully, dream about my boy.

For hours I laid awake in my bed, trying to sleep, but I couldn't. I don't know what I was waiting for, what was troubling me, but it was keeping me from the boy and for that, I would never forgive myself. The time on the clock on my nightstand read 2:17 am. I was still not asleep. So, it was with little purpose that my brothers snuck ever so quietly into my room that night. "Gwen," They shook me, assuming I had been sleeping. In my dreams. (Ironic, no?) "Can we sleep in here, tonight?" Michael asked, pouting his lower lip and letting fake tears spring to his eyes.

I sighed, slowly raising myself to a seated position. I combed out my bangs with my hands as I scrutinized the two. "Why do you want to sleep in here?" I interrogated.

John looked a slight bit embarrassed when he answered, "The storm has frightened us..."

Softly, I giggled. I slipped on my slippers as I got out of the bed and strode over to the window. "You may sleep in my bed," I told them. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"You should be careful, Gwen," Michael warned me, "You'll get struck by lightning if you stand that close to the window."

I paused, still looking out the window into the bleak streets of London, to ask myself how much it would have mattered to me at that point, anyway. "Yes, you're right." I set out a comforter on the floor at the foot of my bed, then a pillow, and another pillow, and a blanket. Once snuggled deep in my covers, exhaustion took over and I fell into a deep, _dreamless_ sleep. I had no dreams of the wonderful boy, that night.

When I awoke, the sun was not yet out and the rain was still pummelling the window and the streets below. I rubbed my eyes, getting onto all fours to maneuver about the room without being fully awake. 4:45 am, the clock read. What was up with my sleeping schedule? I groaned, but I knew I could not go to sleep, now. Suddenly, lightning lit the room, freezing my blood to ice. Not because of the lightning...

Because of the shadow.

A shadow of a boy-ish figure, standing with his hands on his hips had been displayed for my eyes alone. With great caution, I turned my head to face the window where the figure had to have stood. But no one was there. However, I was not, am not, and ever intend to be one easily fooled. I knew what I'd seen and was not about to dismiss it. He must have been in my room some where. I quickly scanned all areas of my room, the bed, the floor, under the bed, behind the curtains, everywhere. However, when a low, loud rumble of thunder came, I could have sworn I heard snickering.

My eyes narrowed and I licked my lips, _It couldn't be..._ I slowly looked up. On the ceiling was a boy. No, no, not a boy, _the_ boy. He was there, in my room. Out of instinct, I tried to cover myself. My nightgown was not tight, short, or low-cut, but I felt insecure, none the less. He sank down to my level, "I told you, Tink," He whispered, "I told you she'd find me."

I bit my lip, nervously. This wasn't happening. It simply wasn't. The boy was in front of me, right there. At once, I recognized the faerie whom he'd been addressing as Tink. Her light was just as vivid and her glitter just as dazzling as I'd always imagined. "Who are you?" I asked him, not because I didn't recognize him, but because I wanted his name.

A sly smirk came across his face, "I do believe you're well acquainted with me. Or rather, many of your stories about me are pretty spot on." He paused, his face becoming pensive as he mumbled, "Except for the 'Wendy' parts. I don't know a Wendy... Not that she sounds like a bad character." It was so magical meeting him for the first time, outside of a dream. "But, since you asked, I'd be happy to oblige. The name's Peter Pan."

"I am -," I started, holding out my hand to shake his.

"Gwendolynn," He finished, bowing to me. "Darling," He added.

I nodded, "How do you... Did you..." As the situation sank in, a light blush came over my cheeks. "Have you been spying on me?!" I whispered harshly. Tink, who looked mortified by the very thought, gasped. Peter, however, laughed heartily.

"Of course not!" He grinned, "I merely over heard your stories as I was passing through. You are a very good story teller." He took out from under his arm, a soggy piece of paper and handed it to me. Very fuzzily, I could make out, 'Second', 'Straight', and 'Morning.' It was the letter I'd written to him. "I am replying to your letter, I don't get very many, as you may expect. I've come to take you away to Neverland!" I gasped.

I was really going, I was getting away from all this! Yes! Yes! Yes! "I can't." What? The truth was, I most definitely wanted to go, but I had duties I needed to attend to, it simply was not fair of me to walk out on these duties. I strode over to my bed where my brothers lay. "John and Michael... My two brothers," I waved a hand, gesturing to them. "I need to take care of them. I can't leave them. Besides, I could be no help to you."

Peter murmured something into Tink's ear. Tink frowned but seemed to comply with orders, given Peter's expression. She flew over to me, then, shook herself like a dog, sprinkling me with shimmering pixie dust. "The boys, too," Peter called out. Sighing, she did the same with my brothers.

"Why-" I began.

"You're coming, Gwen. My boys need a mother, and you're it. No one in Neverland is fit for the job and you, you're just perfect. Take your brothers if you must, but come with me."

I shook my head. "No, Peter. I can't, you don't understand. I'm a young woman, I have to grow up, now. It's too late for me."

"It's never too late," He argued. "Neverland stops time. You can be a kid forever!"

Skeptically, I asked him, "Promise?"

He put a hand over his heart and stood up straight, answering, "I promise."

"John, Michael. John, Michael," I shook them awake.

John groaned, rolling over and pushing Michael off the bed. Michael immediately awoke and retaliated with a shove that sent John, too, flying onto my bedroom floor. "Oof!" John cried, then leaped to his feet. "What was that for?!"

"You started it - !"

"You, two!" I wagged a finger at them, and scowled. "I have great news."

Peter seemed to materialize behind me and crept sluggishly out of my shadow. "How would you like to learn how to fly?" A mischievous smirk played on his lips.


	4. He Came For Me

**Peter Pan Fanfiction**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter Four**

**-**

John gasped and Michael let out a tiny yelp before I covered his mouth with my hands. "This is uhm... Peter," I told him, calmly. The sprite landed on my pillow with her hands on her hips, defiantly bobbing her head back and forth, making jingling noises. "And Tink," I added. "They are from my stories, remember?"

Michael shook his head, no. John stroked his chin, then put a finger in the air exclaiming, "Oh, yes! I remember, but none of the characters had any names. That is, except for Wendy." He looked around, "By the way, where is Wendy?" I flinched. Right here, John, closer than you think.

Peter tapped his foot and scratched his head in deep thought. "You see now," he replied, "that's what I've been wondering. Gwendolynn -"

"Gwen," I corrected him. It was much too formal to be called _Gwendolynn_ constantly.

"Sorry, Gwen," He went on, "described Wendy so well. I feel like I should know her but I don't. She was never in any of my adventures. Gwen described them all perfectly, though... With the addition of Wendy." He shrugged, "Oh well, I guess we'll make an adventure of meeting her! So, then, boys," he floated up into the air, his boyish smile lit the room. "How about flying?"

John jumped up on the bed, disorienting Tink, who flew off to the window, then sent me a fierce glare before zooming away into the night. "Me! Teach me!"

Peter flew about the room in a circle, nearly grazing the wall paper as he did so, but never sending a thing out of place. "Think of everything you enjoy and admire, everything that makes you happy, makes your heart sore, and your body will sore with it!" He laughed enthusiastically, doing a couple of flips before landing in the middle of the room. "You try!"

John took a running leap of the bed, yelling, "SWOOOORDFIGHTIIIING!" I cringed, waiting for him to hit the ground. But he never did. He was just floating about. "Look at me, Gwen! Look! I'm flyyyyyyying!" He flew around at an unbelievable speed.

"You might want to -" Peter began. Just then, John flew into the wall, head first. "Slow down..." Peter laughed weakly.

Michael jumped onto the bed. "Ice cream!" He shouted and jumped off the bed, doing a couple flips before coming up horizontal. "Woooo!" He whooped and hollered.

"Boys!" I hissed, "You mustn't be so loud! You'll wake Mother and Father!" Another reason NOT to go. What about Mom and Dad? They love me and care for me! And I love them, too. I can't just leave them.

"You're turn, Gwen," Peter hovered next to me, holding out his hand. I began to reach out for it when I sighed and shook my head, withdrawing my hand. "What's wrong, now?"

"Nothing, I can't go. It's wrong." I looked over at the crestfallen faces of my brothers. "You two may go if you like, but at the least, I should stay and make sure they know you're safe." Peter gave me a look, letting the boys plead with me. "I can't! I simply can't!"

Peter landed and walked towards me. "You want to go, don't you?" I didn't answer. "Of course you do, no one talks so much and so adoringly about some where they don't want to go. And you want to have adventures, don't you?" I turned away from him. There was no way he was going to shake my resolve. "Of course you do, who doesn't?" Suddenly, I could feel warm breath on my ear. "And you want to see the mermaids, don't you?" Dang, he got me there. I do want to see the mermaids. "And fight the pirates?" Stop it. "And dance with the Indians?" Stop it, stop it, stop it! He put his hands on my waist, "Fly away with me... We'll never have to grow old or tired and we can always have fun together... Always." Then he turned and flung me out into the air.

I shrieked, pulling my knees into my chest. I clenched my eyes shut and put my hands over my head, but nothing happened. Slowly, I opened my left eye. I was floating. No, I was _flying! _I was flying! "Oh, how spectacular!" I gasped. My smile faded when I saw Peter's triumphant smirk. "You win this round, Pan," I grumbled, but could not hold back the feeling in my chest that this new found freedom gave me. "Oh!" I murmured. "I need to do something first!" I hurriedly grabbed a pen and paper. "_Dear Emily,_" It read, "_He came for me._"

Peter jumped up to the window's ledge, "To Neverland!" He crowed loudly, then launched himself off the sill and into the cool morning air. John, Michael and I followed suit.

_To Neverland, huh?_

_-_

**AN: Kind of a short chapter, sorry. I'm going to try to update this as often as I can. Please Review!**


	5. Comparing Muscles

**Peter Pan Fanfiction**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter Five**

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Flying was a hoot. I couldn't believe how high I could soar, and with each trick I mastered, my thoughts grew lighter, as did my body. Sometimes, I would fly on my back and spread my arms out and just breathe. I loved to listen to the air whoosh past my ears. I believed that there was nothing in the world so thrilling and yet, so calming at the same time. It would be a while before Peter proved me wrong on that note. A crying shame, too. He proved me wrong and I'd never even voiced my opinion on the matter.

"Don't fall asleep," Peter warned me, "You'll drop right out of the sky like a rock." I blinked surprised up at him. "I could catch you," He grinned proudly, "I'm pretty darn fast. But don't get too comfy, that's how you get into trouble." Then he frowned, his eyes becoming far away, like in a different time. Not that Peter was _ever_ on the same time line as the rest of the world. Suddenly, he seemed to snap back to reality, or whatever we were in at that point, the youthful shine returning to his eyes. "Just trust me on this one, don't fall asleep while flying." He guffawed and spun off toward Michael to talk to him.

As we went past clouds, I wondered to myself, "Do they taste like cotton candy?"

"Does what?" John asked. I suddenly realised I'd thought aloud.

I smiled sweetly at him and flew over to where he was. I fixed his hair, then licked my thumb and firmly wiped a smudge from his cheek. "Nothing, I was just lost in thought," I spoke so softly, I could barely hear myself.

John stared at me, looking worried, "Gwen... I don't know what to make of you anymore..."

I glanced over at Peter and Michael, both were flexing and comparing. Hysterical, really. Peter had Michael so beat, it wasn't even worth the argument. But I guess that's the way boys do. I grinned widely, Peter noticed and waved at me. Michael turned and saw me and waved, too, furiously pumping his left arm back and forth over his head of flamboyant orange. "How so?" I said to John, in case you hadn't noticed, I wasn't paying much attention to our conversation.

He shrugged, his lashes hiding his pupils as he looked downwards at the deep blue ocean over which we flew. "Well, I don't know," He mumbled, sounding a bit helpless. Almost like a whimper, "You haven't been speaking as much to me, lately. Nor to Michael. It's worrying, Gwen." Was it? I hadn't noticed. I realised I was putting distance between myself and my parents, it was that age and I had little to speak with them about, but I hadn't felt the slightest bit of distance between my brothers and I. I was convinced we were thick as thieves, as thick as thieves get, that is. "It's like, you're not really attached to anything, anymore. You're always drawing or telling stories. It's never about you, it's ever about us, it's never about your friends. It's always about your stories..."

I gave him and awkward, lopsided smirk. "But don't you see, John? Don't you feel the magic in this? Flying here, now? It's all real. And it's been inside of me for so long. Can't you understand how it is to be partly here all the time?" I sighed with contentment, swirling up into the air before floating back down to John. "Even though it's wrong... It's all I've ever wanted..."

John shook his head disdainfully. "None of it is _real_, though. Maybe it seems that way to you, Gwen, but no. I don't feel the magic. I'm pretty well near convinced that any moment I'm going to wake up in my bed and laugh this all off." He looked away from me. "It _is _fun. I'll give you that, but it's not someplace you can stay forever." Truer words were never spoken. And yet, I never wanted to rip someone's head off more than right then.

I frowned, disapprovingly at him. "You're no fun, John. Why can't you compare muscles like other boys your age? Get your head out of the textbook and smell the imagination, buddy, because you can bet your sweet puh-toot that reality gets purty well-near unbearable, purty dang-ol' fast." I flew off to speak with Peter and Michael. To get my mind off of what John had said. After we arrived in Neverland, I nearly forgot about it. But some many moons later, the statement would begin to haunt me like no other before it.

"We're almost there!" Peter called out to us when I could see a speck shrouded in mist in the distance. "It might not look like much, now, but trust me, it'll recognise me any second, here." Sure enough, the closer we got the island, the sunnier and more beautiful it became. It was like no place you'd ever seen in story books, on maps, even in your mind's eye, you could only vaguely picture a place so perfectly gorgeous and mystifying. At once I wanted to explore every nook and cranny of my soon-to-be home but Peter had other plans. "Lie low," He instructed. "We'll be landing soon. It's dangerous in the air, now." Tink's furious jingles could be heard over the wind but Peter's corresponding mutterings were shrouded behind the white noise.

"Why is it dangerous?" I called out to him. Cautiously, he shushed me. Blushing, I lowered my voice and repeated as softly as I could with the distance between us, "Why is it dangerous...?"

Peter took hold of my chin, gently turning it to face a ship on the water on the far end of the island. I recognised it, instantly. The _Jolly Roger_. On it, I was sure, malevolent pirates were searching for Peter. The foulest of which was a tall, handsome, black-haired man with a hook for a right hand. This hook was a replacement for the hand which Peter had cut off. I'd had the extraordinary pleasure of having had the particular moment at which the battle between Peter and this pirate took place be my first ever dream featuring the boy. I was shaking the whole day after. I just kept replaying the blood over and over in my mind, and I kept wondering on how little the blood bothered Peter. "The flag is up, the captain is in."

"The captain...?" I repeated, half dazed.

Peter let go of my chin, his face suddenly serious, "_Hook_," he snarled venomously. A fitting name, I reasoned. I wondered, was his name Hook before or _after _the hand incident. I opened my mouth to ask but decided it was probably better to talk to him about it later, he still looked so serious. It was rare that he ever wore an expression that wasn't full of glee and pompous self-admiration. I noted every bit of his facial features for future reference. I'd undoubtedly want to draw him.

We landed in a heavily forested part of the island. Evergreens surrounded us on all sides. It was a wonder how anyone could navigate their way through the place. Yet, Peter nodded his head for us to follow and we did. He halted not even three metres from where we'd begun, holding a hand up for us to follow suit. He leaned his ear against the nearest tree and tapped on it. Then, with a sly smirk, he nodded to himself, knowingly. He looked over at me, wild eyed. A sharp chill went up my spin and my bit my lip to hold it down. I couldn't tell if I was afraid or excited. Perhaps I was a bit of both. "The boys will be so happy to finally meet you, _mother_."


	6. Nine Beds

**Peter Pan Fanfiction**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter Six**

-

Peter pointed off into space behind us. "What the heck is _that_?!" He shouted, sounding absolutely horrified. Michael, John, and I all jerked around to face the thing, but before I could even fully process that there was nothing where I was looking, Peter grabbed my hand and yanked me downwards. _Underground_, that is. If I hadn't realised it was a trick by the time I was underground, there was no way my brothers could have possibly figured it out. I shrieked, clinging to Peter as I we fell faster and faster. All at once, the falling stopped, and we hovered in the dark tunnel. "Shh!" Peter shushed me, in between giggles. "Girls sure are funny..." He said, more to himself than to me.

Still shaking, I figured it was best I continue to cling to Peter. I don't believe any of my thoughts actually fully formed within the next few minutes, much less happy thoughts, so all in all, clinging to Peter? Good decision. "Wh-what about my brothers?" I stuttered out.

His brows furrowed, "Your wha- oh right, tch, they'll be fine. Nibs is up there, watching them. He agreed to meet you later." What a system, they had! "Booooooys!" Peter called, below us, I could see light and a floor. We exited the tunnel and landed on what seemed to be an ancient tapestry... That they were using as a rug. _Boys_. "Come, it's time to meet your new mother!"

All at once, I was swarmed by five or six boys, all shouting random questions. Some pulled on the hem of my dress, others on the ends of my hair. "Hey! Hey! No touching!" I cried out.

Peter held his stomach, laughing, "Aren't they just the liveliest bunch you've ever met?!" What an irresponsible leader...

"I suppose one could put it that way!" I shouted over the boys' incessant squawking. "**HEY**!" I hollered. Instantly, the boys grew silent, even Peter put a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. "My name is Gwendolyn, but since I am to be your mother, you should refer to me as such. If you simply must use my first name, call me Gwen." I instructed them. "Now then, introductions. Littlest first."

Two boys knelt at me feet. Both looked exactly identical, clad in the same grey fur. "We are the twins." They said, monotonously. I shivered, that was by far the creepiest thing I'd ever seen. Had it not been for their blushing, plump cheeks, I probably would have said no to being their mother and left Neverland then and there. But they were just so adorable, I couldn't leave them to be raised by someone as spontaneous as Peter.

I curtsied to them, patting each on the head. I felt almost like a princess, the way I was acting. It didn't feel bad, the boys didn't seem to mind. But it felt a bit off. I convinced myself that it would pass soon or I'd eventually get used to it, anyway. "Tootles, ma'am," the roundest of the boys bowed to me. His large, blue eyes twinkled with childlike sincerity and I could tell already, I could quickly grow to love living with Tootles.

"A pleasure," I kissed him on the head and stroked his hair, leading him to my side so the next boy could come.

A boy with messy, curly, blonde hair stepped before me. He looked me in the eyes, and then back down, shrugging. "Curly," He said bluntly. I bit my lip, he seemed so shy. However, once I truly got to Curly, he would show his wild side more often than not. This, I was happy to blame on Peter, as well.

The last boy whipped his hat off his head, bowing dramatically. "_Mother_," He started, "I have waited so long to meet you, father has spoken of you so often, it is a pleasure, indeed. I am Slightly," He paused for emphasis, grinning to himself, "Your soon-to-be favourite son." Close, but no cigar.

Regardless, I smiled sweetly at him. He was trying, anyway. "Sure," I said cheerfully, kissing him on the cheek. I heard Tink's ringing again, swift and violent. She stuck her tongue out at me, seeing I'd noticed her tantrum. Off she flew, into a bird cage, then closing the rag-tag curtain the boys had clearly gotten for her, she made a final jingle my direction. "What did that mean?" I asked Peter.

Peter stroked his chin, "Well, I don't really know. She used a lot of words I'm not familiar with, but they didn't sound happy, so I shan't repeat them."

I nodded in agreement, "Probably for the best, then."

Peter clapped loudly to get the boys' attention, "Listen up, boys! Two new lost boys have arrived this day to Neverland. I expect you to give them a warm welcome. However, you may notice, this leaves us a bit short on beds." I counted the tiny beds around the, for lack of better term, basement. eight tiny beds. On the far side of the basement was a large bed, luxurious looking. That, I assumed, was Peter's. I assumed correctly. But Peter was right, when all was said and done, there were ten of us living there, now, and there were only nine beds. "While leading Gwen," He whispered to me, "As the father, I can call you that, right?"

I mulled it over, "I guess so..." I began to worry about what life would be like trying to stop any of his crazy plans. But then, his crazy plans had worked up till then, hadn't they?

"Right, while leading Gwen and her minions," _Brothers_...? "To Neverland, I thought up a brilliant plan! We will steal a beautiful seat, fit for a queen from the pirates, and make Gwen's presence known! Then, Gwen shall have the most luxurious bed in Neverland!"

"VICTORY!" The little boys roared. While the whole idea sounded silly in my mind, the thought of having a luxurious bed and having "my presence known" did seem appealing. So, I went along with it. Besides, what was life in Neverland without adventure?

If only I knew.


	7. They Might Just Leave You Behind

**Peter Pan Fanfiction**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter Seven**

-

Peter turned and, cupping his hands around his mouth, yelled in a most authoritative tone, "NIBS! SEND 'EM DOWN!" At once, I heard the frightened cries of my younger brothers as they fell down the dark tunnel.

There was no urgency on any of the boys faces as they listened intently to the distressed yelps and whines. "Isn't anyone going to catch them?" I asked, suddenly fearing for my brothers' safety.

Peter's brow furrowed with confusion, "Catch them?" He asked. Suddenly, his features lit with realization, "Oh! Catch them! Right!" _Oh, no! My brothers! Never should have come here! _"Boys! Bed!" He and a couple of the boys moved one of the vacant beds under the exit to the tunnel, just as my brothers tumbled out onto it. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Good, call, mother!" Peter praised me, "I never would have thought of it!" Go figure.

I ran to my brothers, smothering them with hugs and kisses. "Get off! Get off, what is with you, Gwen?!" John screeched, shoving me away.

"That's was AMAZING!" Michael cackled. "Let's do it AGAIN!" No, no, let's not. Please, oh, please, no more of that.

Peter cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, as though he were warming up, "There will be plenty of time for that later. _Now_, we are going to fight some pirates!" He snatched up a sword, then casually looking back over at me, he asked, "Can you sword fight?"

I shook my head and shrugged pathetically, "Not at all. Do you have a revolver, by any chance?"

Peter frowned, "Just the one..." He pulled one from under his bed, "But... it's very special..." I didn't reply, I couldn't come up with the words. I didn't _need_ to fight. But they _were _going to get something for me. I felt obligated to help them out any way I could. If that meant using something precious to Peter, then I simply would have to find a better way, wouldn't I? But then, I was never especially skilled at fighting. Whenever John and I would pretend to fight, I'd just smack him in the back of the head with something hard while he wasn't looking, that's always how I won. Although, I do recall stabbing one of my friend's brothers in the leg with a pen when he tried to take my drawing tablet from me. "Take it," He smiled at me, "You're one of us, now," He handed me the small gun.

I tried to hide my shivers of excitement as I hid the gun under my nightgown. "Thank you, Peter."

"Why are we fighting the pirates?" Michael asked, hurrying up to my side with a dagger in hand. Though the thought of my six year-old brother fighting full grown pirates was not one I found especially appealing, having seen Peter in action, I knew Michael would be safe by his side. That, and I had a revolver.

Peter looked at him like Michael had just asked what colour the sky was. "To fetch a lovely bed for Gwendolynn, of course."

"Gwen," I corrected him, once more.

Peter rolled his eyes, but smiled just the same. "Yes, of course, Gwen."

"_Why_ would we get a lovely _anything_ for a girl?" John scoffed, then, grinning at me, "More over, Gwen." I stuck my tongue out at him, defiantly. He did the same back.

Just then, Peter chucked his dagger at John, only barely missing him and pinning the pirate's hat he'd donned to the sedimentary, basement wall. "BECAUSE GWEN IS YOUR MOTHER!"

_Wow._

Peter strode over to the wall, pulling the dagger from it, and peeling the hat off the blade. He ruffled John's hair before handing him the dagger and placing the hat back on his head. "And we wouldn't want to disrespect our mothers, would we?" He questioned John, cheerfully. "Besides, if you stray away from your mother... _**they might just leave you behind**_." John nodded cautiously. It was then then I first caught a glimpse of what exactly it was that mothers meant to Peter. However, Peter himself was an on going puzzle that I, to this day, have not managed to completely figure out.

-

**AN: Sorry, this one is so short. I just knew I wasn't going to get the chapter finished this evening. It might be a few days before the next chapter is up. I'll need some help from my friends with that one and tomorrow I start finals, so I'll be busy studying. Sorry!**


	8. We Have Come For Your Bed

**Peter Pan**

**Everything But The Girl - Chapter Eight**

-

"Come on, guys! We're going on an adventure!" Peter took my hand, leading me up a narrow passage in the farthest wall from where we'd entered. Dirt crumbled off the walls and the ceiling as we crawled through the tunnel. "This is the exit we take when we want to be sneaky," He explained. "The door near where we came in is what we usually use, the way that Tigerlily knows."

"Tigerlilly?" I asked.

He nodded, "The Indian princess."

"Oh!" I gasped, "So, that's her name."

Peter gave me a strange look out of the corner of his eye, "Did you have no names for any of the characters in your stories?"

I shrugged, "It seemed wrong to just name them." I looked around, "Where's Tink?" I questioned, suddenly worried she would feel bad about being left behind.

Peter stuck out his tongue and made a face, "I don't know what's wrong with her today. Don't worry about her, though, she'll warm up to you eventually. For now, it's probably best we let her control her own schedule." I guessed that made sense. It wasn't as though I knew Tink any better than Peter. "By the way," He added, "Her _full name_ is Tinkerbell. It's probably better you refer to her as such. At least while she acts this way."

"I didn't know - " I began.

"I know you didn't, that's why I'm telling you. You may know more than the boys did when they first came to Neverland, but that doesn't mean I'm going to expect you to know everything." The tunnel finally ended and we came up in a field full of beautiful, lush, green grass. The kind your neighbors always have and you tell yourself, _"It's because they have those lawn maintenance people,"_ While you look out on your own, dying yard.

"_Wow_." I breathed.

Peter grinned an enthusiastic, toothy grin. "Yeah, I know."

"Come on, Peter! Let's get those Pirates!" A taller, tanner, _dirtier_ boy that I'd yet to meet called to Peter. I assumed this was the so-called Nibs.

"We'll have plenty of time to sight see later," Peter told me, "Now it is time to introduce you to _Hook_." He licked his lips with anticipation, then, scooping me up into his arms, off he went, flying towards the outer limits of the island. Behind us, the boys did the same.

As we flew I was silently mapping out all of Neverland, should I ever happen to get lost. Then, in the distance, I could see a dim mirage of the boat John, Michael, and I had seen earlier. _The Jolly Rodger_. Pirates were scattered about the deck. Three pirates, one covered in tattoos, another with a large scar on his back, and the last with a wound in his left shoulder that he had not covered and it seemed to be still bleeding, were playing a card game, guzzling tall glasses of rum. I cringed at the sight of the man's wound, _that _was going to get infected...

Farther up on the deck, a few pirates, one very ugly, another seemingly Asian, and the last's appearance was somewhat similar to that of a naked mole rat, were arguing in a huddle. One pushing the other, the other pushing back, the third pushing both of them, both of them, then, in turn, pushing the third. I wrinkled my nose, what a strange crew.

A diminutive, portly man hobbled out of the Captain's Quarters, a tray of drinks in his hands, held just below his nose, so as to be of ease to the takers. At once, the quarreling three, stood up straight, stopped talking, and slunk off into their own respective corners of the deck. The three playing cards each took a drink, clinked their glasses against one another and took one large gulp, letting the excess liquor flow down their faces and up their noses. Snorting and laughing, they put their glasses down and picked up another drink. One drink was left on the tray, this one, the small man took off the tray, letting the tray drop to the floor near the feet of the gambling pirates. Back to the Captain's Quarters, he waddled, holding his drink close to himself, almost protectively, as he took tiny sips off the overflowing rim.

"Where's Hook?" I asked Peter.

Peter shrugged, loosening his grip on me. In response, I panicked, throwing my arms around his neck. Peter laughed, tightening his hold once more. "A little jumpy, aren't we?" I giggled nervously, taking a tentative glance at the ground below, before cringing and turning back to Peter. "Don't tell me... you're afraid of heights!" He roared with laughter.

"Shh!" I slapped him on the arm, lightly. I looked around to see if the boys were listening to our conversation. They were playing tag. I rolled my eyes, _boys_. "You're going to ruin our stealthy onset!"

Peter looked far out into space, furrowing his brow. Then, finally looking back at me, he asked, "Stealthy?"

My jaw nearly dropped. They're all idiots! Barbarians! Savages! "Like, quietly, without the enemy knowing? Like a spy - "

"I know what stealthy means!" He snapped. I stopped mid-sentence, shocked and a little bit scared. I guess... not as idiotic as I'd thought. "What do you mean stealthy onset? Why would we be stealthy?"

I paused, "You're not stealthy in your attacks?"

He rolled his eyes, "Well, _yeah_, with my _attacks_. This is really more of a delivery mission, not meant to deal damage to his party nor mine. We do it all the time. It's... like a..." He chewed his bottom lip, pondering, "A negotiation!" He grinned widely at me. I silently wondered if that was the biggest word in his vocabulary. We flew up closer and closer until we were right over the ship. The boys landed and Peter and I touched down in the vacant crow's nest. "WHERE IS HOOK?" Peter demanded in a deep, authoritative tone.

At once, all the men on deck rushed towards the cabin shouting, "Pan is here! Come out, cap'n! Pan has come to see you!"

The tall, dark man shoved through his crew and paused, taking an awkward glance at me, before addressing Peter. "Pan! What business do you have here?"

Peter straitened up, puffing out his chest, "WE HAVE COME TO STEAL YOUR BED!"

Hook's eyes slowly narrowed, then he slunk back into his cabin. I have Peter a hesitant glance. He shrugged. Hook reemerged from the cabin, "YOU CANNOT HAVE THE BED!"

Peter frowned, "Oh..." But then called out, "THE COUCH, THEN!"

Hook rolled his eyes, turning on his heel to go back into the cabin. "One moment!" He told us. A half-minute later he came out, "OKAY! YOU CAN HAVE THE COUCH!"

"THEN... LET US FIGHT!" Peter shouted, drawing his sword and raising into the air. I grabbed Peter's arm, pulling him back down to my level.

I looked between Hook, who now had also drawn his sword, and Peter, "He just said you could have the couch..."

Peter studied my expression, "So?"

Dumbfounded, I replied, "Well, why are you fighting, then?"

Hook hollered up to Peter, sympathetically, "She's not especially bright, is she?"

I blushed, furiously, suddenly, very ready to let Peter fight. To my shock, Peter sighed and replied calmly, "She's just new."

Hook rose his eyebrows with surprise. "New?" He took off his hat, bowing, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am James, Jas, Hook, captain of the -"

"I know who you are, just fight if you're going to fight!" I shrieked back, still angry about the "not so bright" comment.

Hook frowned, adorning his large, feathery hat. "How rude... However, she is right. PROUD AND INSOLENT YOUTH PREPARE TO MEET THY DOOM!"

"DARK AND SINISTER MAN, HAVE AT THEE!" With that, the lost boys began quarreling with the pirates. Peter and Hook fought skillfully. The two moved back and forth in front of the entrance to the cabin, swords clashing, moving gracefully, each block and blow perfectly orchestrated as though it were a dance. I was mesmerized. Their facial expressions barely wavered, staring straight into one another's eyes. Every time Peter would float upward, Hook would slash up at him, while moving forward, then Peter would land behind Hook and quickly turn to block Hook's next blow. Moving and dancing and switching places. Suddenly, I heard John's distressed cry from behind me, breaking me from my reverie. I ran to the other side of the crow's nest. Below me, the ratty pirate stabbed at John with John's dagger, leaving John in a defenseless ball on the floor, rolling and dodging as well as he could. Shakily, I removed the revolver from my dress and shot downward, shrieking when the backwards force threw me into the pole sticking up through the bottom of the crow's nest.

I saw Michael struggling against the small, heavyset pirate, thankfully, Slightly jumped in, much more effective and Michael. I ran back to the other side of the crow's nest after seeing I'd barely missed the ratty pirate but John had gotten away. "How do I get down?" I called to Peter.

Peter grimaced while Hook smirked at my intrusion. "Just say there!" He ordered.

"How do I get down, Peter?" I demanded, slamming a hand on the frame.

"STAY THERE, YOU'RE NO HELP TO US, HERE!" He retorted, switching places with Hook again.

I cocked the gun, "Just get the stupid bed!" I screamed, pulling the trigger. The bullet embedded itself in Hook's left foot, causing him to yelp with pain.

"SMEE!" He yelled, crumpling onto all fours. Peter looked over at me, shocked. I motioned for him to get into the cabin. He waved over a couple boys while the whole crew crowded around Hook. Out they flew, the couch in hand. It took four of them to get it into the air, but they did it. The couch was rich, burgundy velvet with beautiful gold legs and trim, perfectly polished and embellished with white in the shape of roses. It was better than any bed I could have imagined.

Once the boys had gotten it into the house, Peter rearranged the room so that all the boys' beds were up against the wall, Peter's against the opposite wall, my couch in between, two curtains closing me off from either side. Tinkerbell looked livid when she saw my new sleeping arrangements. Her bird cage in the corner looked like scrap metal compared to the new couch. Angrily, she jingled in Peter's direction and before Peter had a change to defend himself, she flew over, pinched him on the cheek, then zoomed back into her bird cage, closing the ripped rag of a curtain.

-

**AN: Sorry that took so long! It was very hard for me to write. The other chapters shouldn't give me as much trouble.**


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